


taste test

by ottermo



Series: As Prompted [42]
Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 12:59:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13858257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/pseuds/ottermo
Summary: Coffee Shop AU. It was aprompt, I swear.Hester is having a very, very long and difficult day when a wrong turning leads her past Max’s window.





	taste test

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Week 2, Day 4 of the Humans 4-week challenge. The prompt was “Coffeeshop/Bookshop AU”
> 
> I’m a Hester apologist, so, shoot me. But this is organic-human Hester, so she’s a little different.

Her second shift at the factory had finally ended, but Hester was almost too tired to make it home. Everything ached - her arms barely felt attached to her shoulders anymore, and her hands were red raw from dragging and pulling and lugging and lifting for the last sixteen hours. She’d worked a double shift, because she wasn’t sure how else she was going to make rent this month, but now she could hardly walk, and she was wondering if it was worth it. 

She all but stumbled down the alley that led from the workers’ exit to the street, and lingered for a second by the bus stop on the corner. She could just take the bus this once. It would take her ages to get home otherwise. If she could just sit down on the bus for a few minutes, it would be worth losing a bit of the money. Just once. 

No. If she gave in and took the bus today, how would she talk herself out of doing it tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that? It was better not to know what that kind of comfort was like, Hester decided, since she couldn’t hope to finance it long-term. The whole point of nearly killing herself by taking extra shifts was to worry less about money, not to tempt her into habits that would make her worry more. 

She pressed on, forcing one foot in front of the other. If she could just try and think about something else, she’d be home before she knew it. The thing was, it was difficult to think about anything except how exhausted she was. It filled up all of her senses - the overwhelming desire to just give up, there and then, crumple in a heap on the side of the road and not have to think about working or saving or the fact that this would start all over again tomorrow. 

Maybe if she wasn’t so tired all the time, she could get herself together enough to work out another way of paying to survive. It had been difficult enough to get a job at the factory, with a criminal record in place of a resumé - and now there seemed no way to break out of the cycle. She’d never get another job in her current state. She’d probably fall asleep during the interview if she was allowed to sit still for that long. 

Slowly Hester made her way along the street. She turned another corner. Thankfully, this one didn’t have a bus stop, but it did have a bench. She thought about sitting down for a moment. No. A moment would become an hour, she’d never be able to summon the will to get up again, and it would be dark before she got home. Her mixture of night- and day-shifts meant her body clock was non-existent, but she liked to be able to sleep in the dark whenever she could. It was the only time she could pretend she had a normal life. 

She realised after she’d been walking for a few minutes that she’d taken the wrong turning. She’d never been down this street before. Hester stopped walking, her feet throbbing against the pavement. What was she supposed to do? She could turn back, and be sure she was going the right way, but it would tack an extra ten minutes onto her journey. Or she could keep going, and hope this road ran roughly parallel with the one she should have taken. Maybe she could ask for directions. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to decide. It wouldn’t make much difference, either way. But her brain was acting as though it had never been asked to make a choice in its life, and it resented being expected to do it now. Wearily she noticed that she’d slumped against a nearby wall without realising. Damn. She wasn’t supposed to rest now. She had to get home. She had to—

“Hello. Are you alright?” 

Suddenly a voice broke through to her, and she turned her head to see. A door had opened, further along the wall she was leaning against. A man had poked his head out, smiling at her. With a start, Hester realised she wasn’t actually leaning on a wall at all, but on the window of a shop. He must have seen her from indoors and wondered what she was doing. 

“Yes,” she said, curtly. “Sorry, I’ll move now.” She forced herself to stand up straight. 

The man stepped out of the doorway, and Hester noticed he was wearing a dark blue apron with the name “Anita’s” embroidered on it. He was also holding a coffee cup, filled with something hot and covered in cream. Hester tried not to look at it. She began walking again.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” said the man, as she made to pass him by. “I was just going to ask you to help me with something.” 

“I can’t,” she said. “I have to get home.” 

“Please,” he said, his smile impossibly soft and warm. “It won’t take long.” He held out the cup. “Can you taste this? It’s supposed to be a hazelnut macchiato.”

Hester narrowed her eyes. She looked down at the cup, then back up to his face. “Why?”

“Well, because it's—oh, you mean why am I asking you to try it. I’m just practicing, that’s all. Some drinks hardly ever get ordered and I’m worried I’ll forget how to make them. So I’ve been tasting and trying all evening, but I think I’ve worn off my tastebuds by now. Everything tastes the same.” He moved the cup even closer to her. “Please?” 

Damn, it was tempting, but there had to be a catch. “No,” said Hester. “I wouldn’t be able to pay for it.”

The man’s eyes widened. “I don’t want you to. We’re closed, anyway. This would just be a favour.” 

She felt her resolve beginning to weaken. There didn’t seem any harm in stopping there for a moment more. And it wasn’t as if this was on her usual route home. It wasn’t like the bus stop or a bench - she’d never be tempted to stop here again. 

“Okay.” She took the cup and moved it towards her lips. Her sore fingers protested against the warmth of the cup, but the taste of the cream was heavenly.

He was watching for her reaction. “It’s good,” she said, and tried to hand it back to him.

Instead of taking it, he opened the door behind them. “I don’t think you’ll have got to the real drink yet,” he said. “Come inside and have a proper go at it.” His eyes lit up. “I can try out all my customer manners on you!” 

“Sorry. I can’t stay,” Hester said. “It’s been a long day, and I’ve got to walk home.”

He wasn’t taking no for an answer. “My brother has a car. We can run you back later. We’ll owe you that much for helping out. Come on.” 

She couldn’t exactly just steal the cup, and he wasn’t taking it from her. She thought about leaving it on the pavement. She shouldn’t drag her evening out any longer than it had already been dragged.

What was it about this man and his ridiculous smile that made her want to trust him, so badly? 

She followed him inside.

He looked pleased, but not surprised, like he’d always known she would agree. “I’m Max, by the way,” he said, leading her through the little coffee shop, and over to the table nearest the counter. 

“Hester,” she supplied. 

She sat down on one of the chairs. It had a cushion on it. The relief of not being on her feet was so intense, she could almost cry. Instead, she took another sip of the drink. Max had turned away, and was making a new one. 

“I didn’t want you to go on thinking my name might be Anita,” he said, cheerfully. “There’s actually no-one called Anita here. It was an old nickname of my sister’s, so she used it for the shop.” 

She didn’t know why he was telling her this. She had no vested interest in the name of the shop. She would never be coming here again - the idea of someone like her coming in to buy expensive coffee and sit around was downright laughable. 

Even if it was the best coffee she’d ever tasted. 

He turned away from the counter, and drizzled something over the top of the drink. Then he brought it over, and put it in front of Hester. “This is a caramel cream frappuccino. Which one do you like best?” 

Hester sampled it. If she was honest, they were both so great and so different from anything she’d ever tried before that it was hard to say she liked either of them more or less than the other.

Apparently it didn’t matter much, because Max had looked up at the sound of someone coming through the door at the back of the coffee shop, the one that presumably led to the upstairs part of the building. 

“Max,” said the newcomer. “Why are you still—oh. Hello.”

“This is Hester,” said Max. “She’s my taste tester. Hester, this is my brother, Leo.”

Hester looked up to see a man with scruffy black hair and piercing blue eyes. He wasn’t wearing an apron like Max, just a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. 

“Nice to meet you,” said Leo. Then he addressed Max. “Did you just lure her in off the street? I hope you’re paying her for her trouble.”

He seemed to be joking, but Hester thought she’d better say something anyway. She didn’t want anyone thinking she expected payment. “He’s paying me in drinks,” she said. She paused. “Do you work here as well?”

“Me? No. I’m a web designer. I made the shop website, but that’s as far as I go.” 

“He just lives upstairs and drinks out of the cafetière, like some kind of giant coffee parasite,” said Max, with a grin that earned him a gentle cuff on the shoulder from Leo. “If Leo worked here, we wouldn’t have to advertise for a third barista.” 

He gestured somewhere behind Hester, and she turned to see a sign in the window, which she hadn’t noticed on her way in. “There’s just me and Mia here now. Our other sister’s moved to Germany with her girlfriend, so we’ve got to replace her. You don’t know anyone who’s looking for a job, do you?” 

Hester considered. “I might know someone,” she said, very slowly. “But she… hasn’t had much luck getting interviews lately. She doesn’t have any experience except factory work, and she… she was in trouble a lot when she was young…”

Leo gave a half-smile. “I doubt she could be a worse employee than Niska. So judgemental about people’s coffee choices.” 

“Only Astrid’s,” said Max, “And only because she thought she was flirting.” He turned back to Hester. “Tell your friend to ring us up, the number’s on the sign. It might not look like it now,” he grinned round at the empty shop, “But we get pretty busy during opening hours, so we want someone fast. Your friend might just be in luck.” He smiled that smile again. “Especially if she’s a good taste-tester.”

Hester looked down at her drink, and dared to wonder.


End file.
